


i was a loner, unloved - schlattbox - "smoke"

by americanaspacecadet



Series: GoopCast / Lunch Club One Off Fics [2]
Category: GoopCast, Lunch Club, SMPLive
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Schlatt!, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Representation...., Sad Backstory, Schlatt Gets Drunk Because He's Sad, Shotgunning, This Is NOT A Recommended Therapy Method, Vomiting, Weed!, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22358515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanaspacecadet/pseuds/americanaspacecadet
Summary: prompt from my homie: "maybe sometime while they were in la recently while they were getting a little high together and just talking the romantic/sexual tension became a bit too much and one of them proposes the idea that like.. MAYBE they should make out a little. just to try it. because like how do you even know if you're not gay if you've never been intimate with another guy before? and then the other is like that seems rational so they do it and after that they both just dive headfirst into falling for each other..."
Relationships: Noah | Hugbox/jschlatt, Ted | TedNivison/Madi | madimakesmusica
Series: GoopCast / Lunch Club One Off Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556836
Comments: 24
Kudos: 190





	i was a loner, unloved - schlattbox - "smoke"

Schlatt wasn’t surprised when Noah joined him on the patio couch.

He wasn’t surprised when Noah asked to share a joint.

He still wasn’t surprised when he leaned in close.

The kiss woke him up, though.

But let’s not start there - we’ll get context first.

One week of the ‘Lunch Club Invades L.A.’ trip had already passed, and Schlatt was already mourning the day he’d have to return to his too-empty/too-cold/too-small New York apartment. He’d grown quite used to how expansive the AirBnB was - and the joys of being able to freely smoke pot on the roof of said rental.

“I got the stash, boys!”

 _Speak of the Devil and it shall appear,_ Schlatt thinks, looking over his shoulder to see Cooper stroll in with an _impressively large_ bag of weed.

“What the fuck are we gonna do with all of that?”

The rest of the boys laugh at Schlatt’s outburst, laughing harder when Cooper shouts back a muffled ‘smoke big doinks, coward!’ Travis trails after him, following him the kitchen to most likely make pot brownies with a good chunk of the stash.

“You wanna grab a smoke?”

Schlatt shivers as Noah drops down on the couch next to him, breaking him from his thoughts.

Schlatt raises his eyebrows. “Isn’t it only, like, five o’clock?”

Noah snorts. “Dude, it’s eight. Where have you been?”

Schlatt shakes his head, not wanting to admit that he had been vehemently watching Noah go against Charlie at the pool table, eyes tracing his form with every little move he made.

He settles for a shrug. “Physically? Here. Mentally? I dunno, probably Saturn.”

Noah laughs, making Schlatt’s heart skip - just for a moment. He wills the wild organ back into sober submission, praying that Noah didn’t notice the goosebumps running along his arms.

He didn’t.

“Well, let me know when you come back, _Space Cowboy_. Can’t have you double spacing when we’re on the roof, y’know?”

Schlatt nods, a small smile on his face when Noah ruffles his hair before joining the others in the kitchen. Schlatt faintly registers a shout of ‘not that much sugar!’ before wedging himself further into the couch, vaguely watching whatever Carson had pulled up on the too-large flatscreen to watch. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to linger, and his gaze is back on Noah before he can stop himself.

Noah’s lean - tall, lanky, easy on Schlatt’s tired eyes. And he’s confident - somehow managing to look hot in a fucking _Nerf vest_ of all things. The well-kept beard is a nice touch too, and Schlatt’s mind wanders once more, thinking about how soft it must be, how it would feel against his neck, against his -

“Yo, Schlatt, you coming?”

Schlatt startles as Mason calls his name, a faint pink flush kissing his face as he realizes the other boy had caught him staring. He nods before pulling his hoodie onto his body - a gift from Ryan when they had visited Melbourne just a few months prior. Catching up to the rest of the group, he trails behind with Mason .

“I won’t say anything,” Mason murmurs as they hike up the stairs, and Schlatt lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “It’s your business, man, not mine.”

His Timbs make quiet _thumps_ as he walks across the cement patio, the lukewarm California wind ruffling his already messy hair. The boys all collapse onto various chairs and outdoor couches, and Schlatt nearly jumps out of his skin when Noah drops down next to him.

“Care to share, _partner_?” Noah teases. “Cooper doesn’t trust me after I dropped the last few.”

Schlatt snorts. “You only drop them ‘cause you hold them like a 1920’s flapper girl, dude.”

“I feel called out!”

“Good,” Schlatt grins, sticking the joint between his lips. “You’re lucky I share, doll, or you’d have to be the babysitter.”

“I wouldn’t mind watching you,” Noah murmurs, the slight purr in his voice enough to make Schlatt fumble the lighter. Noah laughs. “C’mon butterfingers! You don’t have an excuse, you aren’t even stoned yet.”

Schlatt smiles, drawing a flame from his lighter before holding it to the end of the joint. He faintly recognizes Noah’s eyes on him, but chooses to pin it on the idea that he’s just waiting for a hit. His eyes slide closed as the smoke slips from his mouth, a smile on his face as Noah takes the joint from his grasp. He opens his eyes just enough to catch Noah’s hit, heart fluttering as the boy blows rings instead of a plain cloud.

“You’re such a tryhard, bro,” Cooper teases.

Noah snorts, mocking his skater boy act before passing the ciggy back to Schlatt and leaping from the couch, Cooper hot on his heels. Travis cranks the music, giggling when _marlboro nights_ pours from the rooftop’s sound system. Schlatt smiles, eyes slipping closed once more while the chaotic and comforting vibes wash over him like a wave. He jumps when a body - all flailing limbs and screaming laughter - lands roughly back on the couch a few moments later, nearly making him choke on the drink that had appeared in his hand minutes before. His heart catches as his eyes roam over the wild boy next to him - heaving chest, flushed face, sparkling eyes with blown pupils, an all-teeth-no-lip grin - and he knows damn well he’s in trouble.

But Noah’s always been trouble.

But the night thunders on, as it always does. Beer pong and dance battles and shitty food; swimming pools and living big and barely-there airplanes streaking across the smoggy/stary/smoky night sky. Most of the party moves inside once it hits 2:00AM.

Most.

Two boys still sit side-by-side on a patio couch, the faint sound of late-night traffic and rooftop pool water clipping with cricketsong and muffled music from the rager below. Schlatt lost track of everything - how much he’d smoked, who had left - but he was still painfully aware of who occupied the body next to him. Chills run down his spine when a hand lands on his knee.

“Still with me, Space Cowboy?”

The velvet voice drapes over him like sickly-sweet syrup, mixing and melting and melding with all the other sounds floating and swirling around him like the smoke that drifts from his lips.

He swallows thickly. “Yeah.” Curses when his voice cracks. “What’s up, Box Boy?”

Noah laughs, bold and clear, and Schlatt’s brain short-circuits when the other boy takes Schlatt’s jaw in a too-warm hand.

“I have a proposition.”

“And _I’m_ terrified,” Schlatt jokes, grinning at the offended look on Noah’s face. “I’m kidding, doll. Spill.”

“Ever tried shotgunning, Schlatt?”

“If you’re suggesting we get cross-faded, I’m going to politely and insistently decli-”

Noah shakes his head. “Nah nah nah, with _weed_. Y’know, the shit we have in front of us?”

It’s Schlatt’s turn to stare dumbly at the stupidly attractive man in front of him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

Noah rolls his eyes. “Pass me the blunt, dumbass.”

Schlatt numbly agrees, skin tingling where Noah’s fingertips still gently hold his jaw, hold his face in place. Noah takes a long drag, and uses his thumb to carefully tug Schlatt’s mouth open. The latter leans in instinctively, hands fisted in his own hoodie as a desperate measure to not claw or cling at the man just inches away from him. He breathes in what Noah passes, electricity running over his skin when Noah’s lips barely brush his own. He leans back, a smug grin on his face as Schlatt’s turns a gentle pink.

“That’s what it is,” Noah murmurs, his voice low from the smoke. “No cross-fading tonight, dollface.”

Schlatt swallows roughly. His skin feels like it’s melting where Noah’s touching him, and words are tumbling and tripping out of his mouth before his brain can catch up.

“My turn for a proposition.”

Noah grins, raising an eyebrow. “Hit me, _llanero_.”

“Kiss me.”

Noah blinks - once. Twice. Schlatt’s ready to laugh it off, to jump off the couch with a broken-hearted ‘just kidding! sorry for being too gay! i’ll go die now!’ - but there’s no chance for him to escape.

Not when Noah drops the blunt, grabs the back of his neck and presses his lips to Schlatt’s.

It’s a little awful at first - bumped noses, all teeth, and Schlatt’s bleeding heart in his throat. But Noah pulls back, laughs, takes Schlatt’s face in both too-hot hands, and kisses him again.

 _I have to be dreaming,_ Schlatt thinks, fighting the urge to pinch himself. _There’s no fucking way Noah’s kissing me, nevertheless for the second fucking time!_

But he’s there, hands in Noah’s hair, Noah’s hands on his jaw, his lower lip caught between the other boy’s teeth, and Schlatt swears to whatever God is out there that he won’t forget how this feels. Schlatt shivers when Noah’s hands leave his face, his grip tightening on the latter’s hair while he slips his hands down the former’s torso, teasing the hem of his sweatshirt with his thumbs. Noah’s nails are barely scraping his side when the rooftop access door bangs open, prompting the duo to hurriedly pull away before the mystery intruder guest can stumble upon them.

Noah’s eyes are wide. “Don’t mention this to anyone. Ever.” 

The warning fails to make its mark though - Noah’s blown pupils and heaving chest and fidgeting hands are a dead giveaway - but Schlatt knows better than to push.

“My lips are sealed,” he murmurs, heart panging when Noah subconsciously watches his lips move. “I swear.”

Noah goes to speak again when the mystery guest walks over, and Schlatt takes over the conversation.

“Noah, dammit, you dropped the blunt again!”

Cooper’s familiar laugh hits his ears, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief when he realizes that the lie worked in their favor. Picking up the near-empty red cup on the table next to him, he throws back the dregs of whatever had been in there - he really didn’t care, at this rate - and disappeared into the roaring house, Noah’s eyes glued to his back.

Schlatt grits his teeth when he reenters the house, his ears assaulted by the wall of noise that slams against him once the door swings open, the raucous cheers announcing his arrival only cutting further at his already splintering nerves. But he smiles anyway, through the burning pain of the flashing lights against his tired eyes, against the thrum of poisoned emotions pumping in his bloodstream. He takes whatever drinks people hand him, losing count after the fourth or fifth or was it sixth? red cup pressed into his hand, sharp jolts of laughter slicing out of his loose-lipped mouth when he stumbles through the party. 

“Schlatt?”

The voice is liquid over his cross-faded brain, melting like a fine liquor set on fire.

“James!”

The ground isn’t as hard as he remembers it being when he falls down, head barely missing the floor as someone catches him.

“Jesus, James, how much did you drink?”

“Thefuck are you, a cop?” He slurs, rose-red eyes narrowing harshly. “I’m fuckingfine, thank you very so muchful.”

“Dude, c’mon, you gotta slow down.”

“Get the fuckoff of me then, dick!”

The chatter dies down when he pushes the body away from him - veins buzzing as Noah’s face swims in his vision.

“I don’tneed help,” Schlatt sneers. “Especiallyfrom _you!_ ”

Noah falters as Schlatt’s balance wavers, holding his place when Schlatt’s tearfilled eyes meet his.

“I think you’vedone enough damage tonight, _Noah_.”

The venom in Schlatt’s voice cuts at him, sharpened fractals of sound digging into his bones.

“Schlatt - ”

“I’ll see you allin the morning,” Schlatt breathes, face turning green. “Goodnight.”

He pukes on the floor.

Leaves.

Noah sinks to the ground.

Schlatt feels like he could puke again.

Yeah, okay, he knows it’s because of the alcohol mixed with more alcohol mixed with weed, but he pushes it aside to stare out at the blinding beacon of L.A. through the open window next to him.

Which he stumbles over to and throws up out of - unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be the only time he’s done that. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he trudges into the bathroom, eyes glued to the sink. Tears fill his eyes when he finally steels himself enough to look at his reflection.

His eyes are bloodshot, multi-colored vomit crusted on his face and neck. Remnants of tear tracks cut through the grime, itchy and shimmery and _sad_. He sniffles. Turns on the sink. Splashes water in his face, scrubbing at the not-so-glamorous remnants of the party.

“Look at you,” He murmurs, eyes back on the mirror. “A goddamn fucking fool. A jester in the world of kings. Who were you to think you could make it out of here alive?”

He turns off the sink, opting for a shower. The water burns hot when he steps in, last night’s clothes in a pile just outside the ensuite door. He doesn’t move for a moment, opting to watch the water roll down his skin, over the bruises from falling, old scars from childhood and adulthood alike. He rubs his thumb over a faded stick-and-poke on his hip, a small _forever bi-myself_ with three familiarly colored dots below that didn’t ever heal quite right.

“Guess you’re coming true, aren’t you?” He laughs, voice cracking. “Telling my own future since senior year.”

He sighs, finishing his shower in silence. Turning the water off, he quickly ruffles his hair with a towel before wrapping it around his waist. He quietly brushes his teeth, puts on deodorant, and walks back into the bedroom -

Noah’s on his bed.

His back is facing him, so he can’t laugh when Schlatt nearly drops his towel. He didn’t even bother getting dressed - he’s shirtless, dressed in only boxers and stupidly tall socks. His hair is matted and unruly, and Schlatt can only guess what his expression is, how sleep deprived or how well rested he is. So, instead of getting dressed (seeing that his suitcase is in Noah’s line of vision), he sits on the other side, his back facing Noah’s. Noah jumps when the bed sinks.

“What the hell do you want, Noah?”

Noah flinches. “Good morning to you too - ”

“I’m being serious, jackass,” Schlatt snaps, but the anger isn’t there. “What do you want from me?”

“I - um - I wanted to talk to you. About last night.”

“Really? ‘Cause I think you made it pretty clear where your priorities and feelings lie when you nearly shoved me off the couch just so no one could see us together!”

He can hear the next breath Noah takes - sharp and pained - and he almost feels proud of himself for getting back at him, for cutting him like he had been cut.

Almost.

Instead, he stays silent, picking at his nails. The room is cold, making goosebumps cover his skin like some kind of armor. Yet, he’s never felt more exposed. More defenseless. More _broken over a sharp rock blood pouring out the other boys laughing as they kept knocking him down -_

“Schlatt?”

When did he start crying?

“James, hey, are you - ”

Schlatt shouts, pushing himself off of the bed and into the corner of the room, ignoring the jostle of landing on hardwood on his already sore and battered frame. The towel barely stays on, slipping down his hips just a little as he curls into a ball, fingers tugging on his hair, hands covering his head.

“James!”

Schlatt vaguely registers Noah dropping to his side, can feel the worry rolling off of him in waves - but he stays hands-off.

He needs hands-on.

“Noah?”

Jesus, he hates sounding this weak.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m always here. I’ve got you, James.”

Schlatt grits his teeth, diving into Noah’s open arms before he can second-guess himself. The other boy’s skin is warm compared to his own, and he can’t help but press his face into Noah’s chest, fingertips shakily pressing into his back. He sobs, again, shivering and shaking just like he did back in high school.

He always hated high school.

But right here? Now? He thinks living through that hell was worth it. Just a little. Because Noah’s so warm against his cold skin, his slow breathing an anchor, the brush of his fingertips an easy distraction from the screams of the past rocketing around in his already pounding head.

“What’s going on in there, James?”

He laughs softly, sadly. He can’t do this again.

“James, c’mon, I’m your friend.”

“That’s half of the problem.”

Noah’s voice is painfully quiet. “What?”

“Jesus, Noah, I’m in love with you!” Schlatt sobs, breaking from Noah’s hold to look him in the eye. “I have been since the day I met you. You and your stupid beard, your clothes, the way you hold whatever you smoke like some dainty fuckin’ twenties sweetheart waiting for her husband to return from the store. I love everything about you, and it’s been killing me because I know there’s nothing I can do, nothing I could say, that could ever make you love me back - ”

He stops when he sees the tears in Noah’s eyes.

“I guess we’re both idiots, huh?”

“Wh-what?”

Noah sniffs. Starts to laugh. He takes Schlatt’s face in his hands.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life, James. Your smile, your bright eyes, the way you dance - and, God, don’t get me started on that mouth of yours - ”

Schlatt blushes, a soft pink color staining his cheeks and his neck. He hangs his head, blushing more when Noah lifts it with just a finger under his chin.

“Hey,” Noah murmurs, smiling at the shiver that runs down Schlatt’s back at his low tone. “I wasn’t done looking yet. Pink’s a good color for you, by the way.”

Schlatt grins, his smile somehow growing wider as Noah lifts him into his lap, laughing when Noah struggles with Schlatt’s gangly legs.

“God, no wonder you walk like a fucking goblin.”

“Hey!”

“You,” Schlatt breathes. “Are a bitch.”

Noah pouts. “You’re so mean to me.”

Schlatt laughs, trying to wiggle out of Noah’s iron-bar hold on him. But Noah just accommodates, wrapping his legs around Schlatt’s waist and his arms around the other boy’s ribs, holding the former’s back to his chest.

“This isn’t fair.”

“It’s totally fair,” Noah murmurs, kissing the top of Schlatt’s head. “You can’t escape the love, doll.”

He just laughs again, turning in Noah’s hold to curl around him. The grin on Noah’s face spells trouble.

“You’re scheming.”

“I am,” He agrees. “How would you like it if we scared everyone out of the house?”

Schlatt quirks a brow. “How would we do that?”

Noah drops his voice. “I think I have an idea, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh, _fuck_ yes.”

The rest of the club clusters around the kitchen, nursing hangovers or coffee mugs or both.

“How do you guys think Schlatt’s doing?” Madi murmurs. “He _did_ drink a lot last night.”

“I think he’ll be okay,” Ted replies, leaning on the counter next to her. “I just want to know why he flipped out on Noah.”

Cooper nods slowly, squinting when his headache catches up.

“Something’s off with those two.”

Carson’s eyebrows raise. “Dude. You were the last one up there when it was just the two of them on the roof. What were they doing?”

Everyone else leans in, curiosity pooling in their postures.

Cooper snorts. “Dude, I was cooked. I don’t remember shit from last night.”

The group groans, irritated that they couldn’t get a scoop from Cooper.

Travis pipes up. “Has anyone seen either of them this morning?”

Mason shakes his head. “Schlatt usually sleeps in. Noah’s probably working on something, knowing him.”

A loud laugh echoes from the end of the hall, followed by a _‘Fuck!’_

Josh turns to Carson. “You couldn’t have found a place that was soundproof?”

Carson’s too busy laughing to hear him. Josh just leads the rest of the club to the roof.

The last day of the ‘Lunch Club Invades L.A.’ trip arrives right on schedule, and Schlatt is already excitedly looking towards the flight he’d take to return to his too-empty/too-cold/too-small New York apartment. Because now, it’d become a perfectly-full/comfortably-warm/still-too-small New York apartment.

Noah’s hand is warm in his, their fingers tangled together snugly. Sure, the group ragged on them for fucking loud enough to hear through the whole AirBnB, but the couple didn’t really give two shits.

Noah’s lease was ending in a month, so he decided to follow Schlatt back to The City That Never Sleeps, to his little apartment nestled in Queens.

“I’m gonna miss you shitheads,” Schlatt said on the last night, raising a piece of New York style pizza (which he said was definitely a poor excuse for said style). “And, oddly enough, I’ll miss L.A.”

Carson rolled his eyes. “We’ll all be together again soon, dumbass. Can’t keep a group like this apart for long, right guys?”

The rest of the Lunch Club cheered, raising their own slices before chowing down.

Now, as Schlatt and Noah relax on the plane, Schlatt takes a minute to breathe, to recollect, to remember.

  
And to take an embarrassing picture of his gorgeous sleeping boyfriend on the _shittiest_ camera he’s ever seen. ‘Cause this is his new home. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> i leave for an accidental hiatus.... i return with gay...
> 
> you're fuckin' welcome, boys and girls.


End file.
